


Dark Angels Follow Me

by Chicktar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean as Sam's father (not in a kinky way), Innocent Castiel, M/M, Nanny Castiel, Older Dean, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 23:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11610882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chicktar/pseuds/Chicktar
Summary: Castiel is a young nanny in this AU, just starting out on his first job in a new part of the country after a difficult upbringing in a series of foster and group homes.  He goes to Kansas to take care of Sam Winchester, son of the mysterious Dean Winchester.  He quickly grows to love his life there with Dean's personal assistant, Charlie, and his bright pupil, Sam.  But there's something strange about the house and it appears Dean is destined to marry either the powerful Lucifer or the beautiful Tessa.  This is AU set in modern times, but with an old gothic style to the writing.  Dean, Sam, Castiel and the close family and friends are all human, but vampires and some other supernatural creatures do exist in this world and are known to the public at large.  Vampires in particular are despised and feared.Tags will be added as the story develops and it is possible the rating will go up to Explicit.





	Dark Angels Follow Me

**Author's Note:**

> I believe this will be a pretty long, slow build, and I can't promise to keep the posting schedule I did for Take a Look to the Sky. I think this one might be more like every 5 or 6 days. But I hope you'll give it a try, and let me know what you think!

Stepping off the train into Lawrence Station felt as if I had been transported to a foreign land.  Grand Station had been a bustling cacophony, filled with exotic faces, smells and sounds.  The quiet here struck me as almost mystical—as if this small train station in a small city in the heart of the Midwest must be hiding a gateway to some mysterious, delightful adventure.  As I looked around, I knew it was just a silly fancy.  I saw a hallway leading to offices, but the waiting and guest area was one surprisingly small room, with cheap laminate floor and rapidly aging 60’s style construction and décor.  It was neat and clean and the only woman working there, at least apparent to the eye, was polite enough.  But the stillness of the place, and perhaps my own anxieties about this major life change, allowed that sense of something “other” to settle somewhere deep inside me.  

I had expected someone to be there to meet me, but as soon as the few waiting passengers moved to board the train I had just departed, I was alone in the cold waiting room.  The vending machines glowed out at me from a corner of the room, but I had only $630 in my wallet—my entire life’s savings to that point.  I stared briefly through the glass, coveting the bottled water and snacks.  I was both hungry and thirsty, but was even more afraid of how I might survive if my ride never did arrive.  So instead I walked over to the water fountain and drank my fill of the metallic tasting under-chilled water.  I sat back down nervously and pulled out my phone, but there were no messages or calls.  I knew I should wait some reasonable amount of time before calling, but I already wondered how long was reasonable?  Surely I was expected to arrive on time and if I let an hour go by without calling I might disappoint my new employer.  My own inexperience and naivete were suddenly so evident and I was glad there wasn’t a crowd at the station to see on my face how frightened and unsure I suddenly felt.

I berated myself silently, both for my unfounded fears and for foolishly expecting not to have any.  I was only 20 years old and on my own, in a new part of the country and directing my own life for the first time.  This uncertainty was natural, and there was no reason to assume the worst.  But of course only three minutes later I was looking at my phone again.  Just then the door swung open, letting in a rush of hot air and a pleasant but harried-looking man.

“Is your name Novak?”

I stood awkwardly, wondering if I should shake his hand.  “Yes, I’m Castiel Novak.”  

The man looked down at the small, stained suitcase I’d acquired at the thrift store the week before.  “Is that it?”

“Yes.”  Embarrassment filled me at how it must look to move somewhere permanently with only one small carry-on of belongings to my name.

But of course the man wasn’t interested in any of that.  He simply reached forward and grabbed the case, turning abruptly and heading back out the way he’d come.  I followed after and watched as he placed the bag into the back of a large black SUV parked at the curb.  He then strode around to the driver’s door and slid in.  I reached for the back door, then thought better of it and opened the front door, slipping into the passenger seat.  The man showed no reaction other than pulling away and out onto the street.

“How far is it to the Estate?”

“ ‘Bout 40 minutes.”

For some reason that settled me.  I was safely across the country, my new life about to begin, with a few minutes to reflect before meeting my new employer and her son.  I could guess little about Charlie Bradbury from the driver and his vehicle.  I wondered if she and the boy lived alone.  I tended to prefer solitude myself, but still I was hoping we would get along.  I couldn’t help but give a silent prayer that she would not turn out to be a second Naomi.  But if she was, I wouldn’t be bound to stay with her.  If the worst came to the worst I could find a new position and move again.

After about 15 minutes on the Interstate, the driver exited onto a two-lane highway that quickly became twisty and well-lined with trees.  The scenery was green and vibrant and I lost myself in it for a while.  Until the driver turned off onto a gravel drive that stretched between two lines of trees and disappeared over a hill.  When we reached the peak, I saw the house.  It was past ten, so most of the house was shrouded in darkness.  I was left with a general impression of roof peaks and turrets—perhaps some out-sized Victorian style mansion—and then we were walking up the steps to the front door.  The driver stepped in without any knock or announcement and I followed him across a square foyer with high doors all around.  We entered a well-lit living room, where a young woman with striking red hair sat, laptop propped up on a pillow over her legs.  A large ginger-colored tabby cat was curled up against her side as if intentionally to complete the vision of domestic comfort.  She looked so at home and I was surprised by the relief I felt.  This was the perfect introduction for me as the new nanny—there was no grandeur to overwhelm, no formal niceties to embarrass me.

As I followed the driver into the room, the young woman looked up and seemed startled to see us there.  Then she smiled broadly and bustled to set her laptop aside and get up to meet me.

“Oh, how are you?  How was your trip?  I’d rather take the train than a plane any day, but still you’re probably worn out.  I don’t know why traveling.  Doing nothing shouldn’t really be so exhausting.  And Bobby drives so slow.”

The young woman had a bright energy that I was immediately drawn to.

“The train was fine.  I…um…is Ms. Bradbury already gone to bed?”

“Oh geez, I’m sorry, I always do that.  Just start talking when I really should introduce us.  I’m Charlie.”

“You’re…?”  How could this young woman have a teenage son?  And own such a large estate?  I wondered these things confusedly then immediately berated myself.  Her personal life and history were none of my business.  I gathered myself and extended my hand to her.  “Well it’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Bradbury, and I look forward to meeting your son as well.”  There.  That was much better.

Ms. Bradbury laughed brightly at me even as she extended both of her hands to take mine.  “Oh no, please, it’s just Charlie.  And Sam isn’t my son.”  As she spoke she pulled me gently toward the couch and sat down next to me.

The driver, Bobby, coughed roughly from where he had been standing patiently.  “Charlie, are you done with me?  I’d kind of like to get home before Jody sends out a search party.”

“Oh yeah, we’re good, Bobby.”  Charlie jumped up and pulled the man into a quick hug that he seemed to tolerate, then flopped back down onto the couch.  “Thank you and say good night to Jody.”

Bobby smiled at her and then turned to nod to me.  “Good luck.”  I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but it didn’t seem to be intended sarcastically, so I nodded back.  “Thank you for the ride, Mr. …”

“It’s Singer.  But Bobby is fine,” he said, then turned and headed out the way we’d come.

When I turned back to Charlie, she was still smiling brightly at me, and started off immediately saying how glad she was that I was there.  “Ugh, thank God you’re here.  It will be so good to have company.  I know the house is wonderful, a bit run down here and there lately maybe, but still it is a pretty cool place.  But it can feel so empty sometimes.  Bobby and Jodi are nice, of course, but then they don’t live in the main house and they have each other and their own lives and business.  They can’t always be worried about keeping little Charlie company.  As if it isn’t weird enough that they have to take orders from someone half their age.  I bet that’s strange.  And then to have to be my only friends out here.  It’s kind of too much to ask, you know?  Sam is great, and he reads to me sometimes or will deign to play a bit of Tekken, but he’s into other things right now.  It’s normal.  He doesn’t want to spend every minute hanging out with me, even if I am the closest in the house to his age.  But now that you’re here to talk to, the days will fly by!”

She was so open and friendly that I couldn’t help but want her to like me.  I couldn’t exude the same kind of bubbliness that she did—I knew I always came off rather stiff no matter how I tried, but I tried to express my sincere wish that she might find my company as agreeable as she anticipated.

“Oh, but it’s late, it’s nearly twelve now.  And you have been traveling all day.  You must be tired.  I’ll show you to your room.  I’ve put you in the one next to mine.  It isn’t the largest suite, but I thought you would like it better than one of the large front rooms, with their fancy antiques and set so far away from the rest of us.  This way you can be close to both Sam and I.”  She had risen and started heading toward the stairs as she talked, so I grabbed my little carry-on and followed her.

When we got to my room, I was glad to see it was spacious but still cozy, decorated in nice warm browns and greens, with a large, soft looking four-poster bed, a huge walk-in closet that I knew I would never do justice to, and my own bathroom.  When Charlie had said good night and gone, I closed my door and looked around.  She was right.  I was exhausted.  The room was so warm and charming, with its soft beige paint and green window curtains, and the thick plush carpet underfoot.  It was so unlike the bare cement and stained plaster of Morton House that my rising spirits could not be contained.  I saw safe here.  In a new place and a new life.  One that I could build and design for myself.  One that would have its flowers and pleasures, as well as its thorns and toils.  With the path opened to hope, my emotions were a jumble.  I can’t precisely define what they expected, but it was something pleasant; not perhaps that day or that month, but at an indefinite future period.

After brushing my teeth and drinking a glass of water, I stripped down to my t-shirt and boxers and crawled into the bed, which turned out to be just as soft and welcoming as it looked.  I was asleep in minutes and slept more soundly than I had in years.


End file.
